


Midnight Sun

by girl_called_sun



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl_called_sun/pseuds/girl_called_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nealan shares his wisdom about Scanran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Sun

"They're all vicious savages, that's why they attack us."

"No, Garvey, it isn't." Myles of Olau sighed at the small group of pages in front of him. The teaching of basic Scanran socio-political themes had been left to him, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe he shouldn't have had that glass of wine before discussing the new curriculum with Lord Wyldon.

"There is little in the way of farmland: Scanran is a rocky, mountainous region, all the way to the frozen wastes of the Endless North. They have long coast and great skill with ships. It makes perfect sense to raid our coast with wolf-boats, to nibble at our northern borders for farm land," Myles explained with studied patience.

"Scanrans are lice ridden, uncivillised animals who deserve a damn good thrashing."

"That's as maybe, but I'm trying to explain why," Myles ground out.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Neal?" Giving young Queenscove free licence to talk was maybe only the lesser of two evils, but it was better than Garvey's xenophobic rantings - or what did some older knights call it? - strident patriotism.

"I was reading a paper belonging to my father, and there's a new theory in the City of the Gods that the long winter nights - the complete lack of daylight for months - send them mad. Well, it technically induces a dreamlike state where they believe all the rest of the world isn't real, that we are all figments of the imagination. And, if the process is followed to its conclusion..."

"Thank you, Queenscove. This isn't introductory psychology."

"I wish the Scanrans were figments of my imagination!" Cleon piped up, on cue, his comments were always timed to get the maximum laugh.

Myles sighed. Sometimes he wondered if the stock explanation of "They're the baddies, go kill 'em for the good of Tortall", was used because it was simply the easiest thing to say.

He decided he needed a drink.


End file.
